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Feb. 19th, 2009


The Alien Chasers Get Hit (Venkman/Cupid)

Gwen had been on a simple mission for coffee and to start getting the cover aka coffee house set up for Torchwood when it happened. She ended up chasing after a flying person shooting arrows at people,"Well at least its more orignal than weevils!" as she dove into an alley mid chase. She spotted a nearby building so as she turned to see if there was anyone inside was when Cupid's arrow struck the younger woman,"Your aim is worse than Owen on a bad day!" as she dove inside to avoid more flying arrows. She was trying to pull the arrow now loged in her shirt when she felt something she could not explain, whoever crossed her path would be in for a suprise to say the least. "Anyone see anything crazy in the last couple of hours?" she called, hoping someone would answer her.

Jan. 14th, 2009


Anyone for Attack of the Ant People? [Snowed in]

(For Dexter, Ace, Dean, Claire, Venkman, Firekeeper, Logan E.)

It'd been fun for a little while. Traipsing through the snow. It became a little more difficult as the snow kept coming; it simply wasn't physically possible for this much snow to drop like that. And, when she noticed the dog fighting to get free of what had to have been a little old lady now turned lump of ice and snow, Fred decided it was time to get inside. Well, only after trying to free the little dog from its frozen mistress, which didn't work out so well, seeing as the damn dog tried to bite her rather than let her help.

Fred didn't want to leave the little yapper out in the snow, now falling in clumps, but she couldn't stay out in it either. No, she started looking for some place that was still open and could take her. Unfortunately, the only place she found that still had its doors open, figuratively speaking, was an old movie house. Actually, Fred didn't mind it; she remembered her mom and dad talking about places like this, and she supposed it could have been a lot worse. She even giggled at the posters hanging up; yeah, it could have been a lot worse.

She didn't seem anyone around quite yet, and supposing that concessions weren't open, she settled down on one of the velvet like couches in the theatre's lobby - sure, it'd seen much better days, dust rising as she sat, but there was something reassuring about a place this old still standing. Plus, the place was a lot warmer than it was outside. She just hoped she wasn't about to be all alone, or maybe that wouldn't have been a bad thing. She'd done alone in bad times before...

Jan. 9th, 2009


You have 247 new messages [Karen Walker, Liz Sherman, prospectives?]

"Ah, the old firehouse," Venkman greeted the building as he walked in. "Did you miss daddy? Huh?"

He was dressed in new civilian clothes, having burned the old coveralls he had worn during the zombie invasion. He was showered, shaved, and had just a little bit of a Jim Beam buzz. He was ready to get down to work.

"Karen? Any messages while I was out?"

Dec. 18th, 2008


People Watching [open]

Mad Sweeney yawned and pulled a bic lighter out of his pocket, flicking it to light a few times before tossing it into the air and catching it again. His cigarette was already lit and pinched between his lips, but his hands required something to play with. The trouble with lighters was that they were difficult to balance, difficult to judge how they'd land.

Within a moment he had dropped the lighter back into his pocket and kicked at a tuft of snow on the ground. There wasn't much, but enough to kick at in disdain.

He was walking through the Botanical Gardens, more people watching than looking at the scenery. Boredom did that to Sweeney. It made him stare at passerby and fantasize about the kind of people they were. About their lives.

Like the man he was currently watching. Tall, dark, handsome by most standards. He was probably an attorney or a doctor. One who made a large sum of money and spent it with abandon. Probably had six or seven women stashed away in various parts of the city... Probably...

Sweeney stopped in his thoughts just long enough to pluck a coin from thin air, from his hoard. He flipped it in the air a few times before letting it rest in his palm. All things considered, things were good.

Dec. 1st, 2008


Reaping in Reverse (Everyone Who Wants to Be Cured)

George looked a bit like a gunslinger. She had two separate hypospray devices that delivered the cure without the hassle of a giant needle. Just press the barrel of the gun-looking medical tool against someone's neck or the chest and pull the trigger. It even made a neat little sound when it activated. (Zzzt!) There were, of course, complications.

Some zombies were missing body parts, some would not survive the cure process. After enough people had the cure delivered to them, there was just barely enough organization to herd the more damaged to either a) the hospital to have the cure delivered there where they could get immediate medical attention or b) to Arkham Asylum to be kept there until city officials decided what to do with the undead who were possibly too damaged to come back.

But not all the citizens of The City got a happy ending. For some there was just an ending. Volunteers were gathered up to collect the bodies. There was a graveyard and a memorial in the works for those who had died in the plague. After getting several filled post-it booklets of names and places, George went to the impromptu morgue that was set up for the more unfortunate until or if friends or family members were able to identify the deceased. It was one of the easiest jobs George ever had. Her hand brushed along the dead like some strange ghostly domino effect, and many started to take their leave. A few still chose to linger. The death toll was estimated to be in the thousands.

What seemed like a slow process felt very quick to George. She cleared out the hospital first, then the park, and so forth. After a while she wasn't alone. Recently cured policemen who were healthy enough to serve dressed up and riot gear, slowly retaking The City. Hotlines were set up for zombie sightings. It was all very efficient.

After today, George wasn't going to be quite as anonymous as she once was. A lot of people were going to remember her face. She at least tried to be a little considerate, hosing half eaten flesh and blood from some of the soon to be formerly undead before administering the cure, providing blankets to others that didn't have much left in the ways of clothes.

It was a bit like reaping in reverse. George liked it.

OOC! )

Nov. 5th, 2008


When Fire Comes in Handy (Open, Dr. Venkman)

The zombies had taken over quickly.

So quickly in fact that she had had to protect herself using fire to make it to her work.

She knew that her boss, Dr. Venkman would be there. And she wanted to try and help any other innocents along the way. She'd found a couple of people cowering in an alleyway. They had made it through only by luck. But they weren't safe, so she brought them along.

There was a basement in the Ghostbuster building where there was only one entrance. It would be safe enough to hide out.

Her flame came in very handy when it came to flaming zombies.

It was amazing how quickly they went up in flames.

She opened the door to quickly, yelling, "Where are you Dr. Venkman? I have some people who need a place to hide out. Hello?? Dr. Venkman?"

Oct. 29th, 2008


A Night of Ghouls and Ghosts (ATTN: OPEN ALL)

Halloween.  Tony Stark's favorite time of the year.  The weather was perfect, not too hot or cold, trees around the city were changing colors.  And he had no reason in the world to complain here.  He and Pepper were together, and it'd been a blissful few weeks since their initial union.  For the first time in years, Tony could say he was happy and satisfied.

He'd sent out invitations city wide in hopes of drawing in the citizens to his home for him to have a chance to meet them.  He hadn't ventured out much since he'd been here, mostly because even if he was ever the social butterfly, Tony was too focused on fixing the once damaged relationship between him and Pepper.  Now that was all taken care of and here he stood in his bedroom putting on his costume.  He'd laid his choice of cstume out on Pepper's bed for her to put on, chosen since she'd lost to him in a little game they'd played to determine what they'd spend this night as.  It was custom tailored to fit her form perfectly, having taken the dress she'd worn for their first night together and used its measurements.

He stared at himself in the mirror, thinking that his goatee would make wearing the mask a little awkward at best, but he didn't care.  He thought since he should play the mysterious host of the night, that he should don the look of someone just as mysterious.  Taking a step back from the mirror, he attempted to twirl the cape, almost tangling himself up in it the first few times until he got the hang of it and smiled.  Affixing his mask to his face, he smirked as he gave his appearance one last once over.

The Phantom of the Opera was ready for his grand entrance.

[ooc: If you're character is showing up, feel free to start your own thread under this.  Tony will attempt to greet everyone but might not for getting sidetracked by others.  If you plan to crash the party, I will start a separate thread after a day or two to give people a chance to do regular party stuff.  Have fun, and don't be shy with your characters!  This is a very social log!]

Oct. 15th, 2008


On the case, pt 2 (tag: Liz, George)

It had been weeks of missed opportunities and schedule conflicts. The Ghostbusters were supposed to meet with this George girl who seemed to be a focal point for the victims of the killing spree. Unfortunately, every time they planned to meet, some other case came up. Vampire dregs, zombies, various harmless cryptids, and more often than not, they arrived at the scene to find someone had done their work for them with little more than stakes and shotguns. The vigilantes of the city didn't have red tape to navigate. They were off the books, and didn't have to fill out twelve forms every time they set foot in a haunted house.

Finally, an opening appeared in the schedule, and they arranged to meet George.

"Yeah, I know, Liz. So far, it's probably not as exciting as your last job," Dr. Venkman encouraged the glum-looking young woman in the passenger seat of the Ecto-1. "But it can't be the end of the world every week. That only happens every ... well, *once*, I guess. So, come on. Buck up, sunshine. We'll get to bust some ghosts pretty soon." He gave her shoulder a vigorous, paternal rub. "Hey, you wanna run the siren?"

Aug. 21st, 2008


On the case (tag: Liz, Xanadu)

Sure it was just down the street, but why not take the ECTO-1? She'd been collecting dust for the last few weeks. Time to open her up and tear around the City with the lights and sirens. Wake up the neighbors.

"Watch this," Peter said smugly to his new employee in the passenger seat. Already going at about forty miles per hour down city streets, he made a hard right turn at an intersection. When the heavy equipment atop the car might have ordinarily caused it to roll, the hydraulics automatically kicked in. Lifting the left side of the car on the outside of the turn, it countered the shifting mass, then set it down gently again as the car resumed a straight drive. Peter laughed in triumph. "Ha ha! Man, I love being a Ghostbuster!"

A block later they had arrived at their destination: some kind of head shop. Peter was used to these places - Ray and Egon owned one during their brief unemployment phase - but that didn't stop him from looking around with bemused fascination as he entered.

Aug. 5th, 2008


Open House [Ghostbusters HQ - wide open]

Peter Venkman strutted around on top of a folding table outside the huge doors of the old firehouse. He pulled a few silly dance moves and mock "rock-out" faces to the delight of the children, as Ray Parker Jr.'s (now official) anthem played on a vintage 1990 boombox.

"If there's somethin' strange," Venkman crooned into his micophone along with the music, "in your neighborhood ... who you gonna call?" He held out his microphone and the children answered him enthusiastically.

Beneath his feet, draped over the table, was a banner indicating an Open House. Stickers and temporary tattoos bearing the logo were stacked here and there, as were pamphlets about the services the company rendered (with no mention of price ranges).

He hopped off the table, strode over to one kid's attractive mom and put his hand on her shoulder. Microphone still in hand, he continued to follow the music. "Lemme tell you somethin' - bustin' makes me feel goo-ood!" Then, retreating to the table again, he spoke. "All right, you guys. That's all for Doctor Venkman right now. I'll be around signing autographs later. Remember, kids, you can pick up an official Ghostbusters T-shirt for twenty American dollars. Just ask your parents' permission. Sad puppy eyes - that's the key. Tug on those heartstrings, kids. All right, thanks! You've been a wonderful crowd! Good night, City!"

A bit breathlessly, Venkman trotted into the station. "Hey anybody see a ghost somewhere? Hi. How's it going. Enjoying yourself? Whoop! Watch it with that thing. I'm not wearin' my proton-proof vest." He proceeded to mingle, looking for anyone with a question.

Jul. 25th, 2008


MM - What's a god to do? (Open)

Jesse wasn't exactly sure what he should be doing at the moment. The last time he'd interfered in something big, really bad things had started to happen to the people around him. And this time, he had the ability to just stop it all.

He had learned a long time ago, that you didn't mess with The City or it's choices.

Of course, that left him feeling rather shitty about everything. Why have abilities at all when you weren't allowed to use them?

There weren't many people that he was close to anymore. Max was gone, Buffy missing. That left Fray. Not that she couldn't take care of herself, because she damn well could, but he really didn't want to risk it.

Which left drinking.

Drinking a lot.

Once again, Jesse Custer found himself in a bar, drinking himself into a stupor.

Jul. 10th, 2008


I need a drink [bar - open]

Peter Venkman wasn't especially smart - not for a scientist, anyway - but he had wits to spare. He had also been around the block a few times, cosmically speaking. He'd been to a few creepy, alien dimensions, he'd traveled through time a little, he'd even been to Hell once or twice. "Not a good vacation spot. Let's just leave it at that."

This afternoon, he walked out the front door of the old firehouse - the location of the original Ghostbusters Inc., and currently the global headquarters of Ghostbusters International - and discovered that the deli across the street was now some kind of head shop, the cars on the street were from a variety of different eras (including the near future, apparently) and the skyline of the city was dramatically different. It wasn't much of a leap, then, to assume he'd ended up in an alternate universe of some kind. Maybe something was taking bits and pieces from different worlds and eras and putting them together. Kind of like a hot dog.

He quickly turned around and was relieved to see the firehouse still there. A quick inventory revealed that the equipment - the ECTO-1, the containment grid, and a few proton packs and traps - were still there. No people, however. Damn. Looks like he'd have to hire a new receptionist.

There was a bar across the street. What better place to find out about this world than to talk to the people? And what better time to talk to them than when they're buzzed?

"Hey, barkeep. What kind of booze you serve in this dimension?"